


Resurrection Fern

by bcenman



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, First Time, Genetic Engineering, Iron & Wine, M/M, Resurrection Fern, Song Lyrics, Stranded, queer!Julian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 20:57:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11021460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bcenman/pseuds/bcenman
Summary: While they're stranded on a planet, Garak reflects on his and Julian’s history. Things take a turn after Julian discovers a rather interesting fern… (mostly Garak POV, lots of dialogue, post Dr. Bashir, I Presume?)





	Resurrection Fern

**Author's Note:**

> Idea inspired by the Iron & Wine song Resurrection Fern. I’ve been watching lots of DS9 lately and when I heard this song, the fic strolled into my head almost fully formed. *Highly* recommend listening to the song when it appears in the story for greatest effect. Thanks to the good people at songmeanings for their analyses. And please do leave a comment if you enjoyed it.

There are worse places to be stranded, Garak thinks, as he sits beside the fire.

When he agreed to come on this scouting mission, he told himself it was a simple diversion, an outing to relieve the crushing monotony of life as a humble tailor. Surely, no one would suspect there was any more to it than that.

He resolutely ignored the smaller, though very insistent voice, which reminded him that a chance to be alone with the good doctor had also factored into his very enthusiastic acceptance of the assignment.

Not that he expected anything to happen. It was true that, not so very long ago, he would have loved the opportunity for seduction presented in a scenario such as this. Like most aspects of Cardassian society, romance has a tendency towards the aggressive, and it had long been Garak’s personal practice to treat attractive persons as conquests. Upon meeting Doctor Bashir, he had acknowledged the attraction immediately, and although he understood that humans were more binary in their sexual orientations, he had long harboured a wish to be able to express his intentions directly.

Until he learned Julian’s big secret, that is. Of course, Garak had expressed admiration for Julian’s subterfuge, especially given the copious amounts of time he had spent in the former agent’s company. But in a deeper place, he felt a twinge of regret and pain at the revelation. If genetic augmentation was Julian’s biggest secret, the piece of himself he would protect at all costs to the detriment of the rest of his life… if that was now laid bare and their relationship remained basically unaltered as a result, then it was extremely unlikely that feelings for Garak were something he was hiding as well.

Over time, Garak has become resigned to being close friends with Julian. He knows well enough not to be ungrateful for it. But now, stranded on a strange planet and utterly, completely alone together, Garak can’t help but revisit the vast library of his feelings for Julian. He gulps, noticing Julian has removed his jacket. His brown, muscled arms glow in the firelight, and Garak is glad that Julian seems to be miles away at the moment.

~~~

Julian has been evasive and preoccupied all evening, since the moment they found the fern. It had been, to Garak’s eye, rather unremarkable, if not for the fact that it was growing directly on the bark of a large tree. They were conducting a planetary survey while waiting for their distress signal to reach the station, and at first glance, this small fern didn’t seem very important at all.

What was remarkable, however, was the good doctor’s reaction to this finding. Garak hardly needed covert operations training to spot the sudden stillness, pale complexion, and slight tremble in his fingers as he gently caressed the fronds. A few moments passed, and a faraway look appeared in Julian’s eyes. His suggestion that they return to the clearing and build a fire were the last words he’s spoken all evening.

Garak, curious as to what could have changed the doctor’s manner so swiftly, decides to put his skills to work.

“Doctor, I must confess, I had not known certain flora possessed the ability to render men speechless.”

Julian starts, pulled out of his reverie, then smiles slowly, recognizing the beginning of The Game. Garak also smiles, enjoying the familiar parry, but he feels an uncertainty within. He’s gripped with a sense that, if he plays correctly, he may learn far more about Dr. Bashir tonight than he is prepared to.

“Well, perhaps it’s not the plant itself, but what it signifies.”

“Indeed, as your Magritte would say, ‘Ceci n’est pas une pipe.’ The image, though a convincing representation, does not possess the soul of the real thing.”

Julian’s smile falters slightly.

“Though it can call to mind the real thing long past… whether joyful or painful.”

Ah. Garak slowly says, “Doctor. We have on many occasions advised each other on a variety of matters. If this fern has brought something to mind, I can assure you that I am willing to help parse it. We are, after all, quite alone, and quite without another way to fill the time.”

Julian laughs, although a wry look crosses his face for a split second. When he speaks, his eyes raise to the stars, as though they might provide answers.

“I first saw a resurrection fern when I was in high school. My classmates and I were on a field trip surveying forest life when one of my friends came across it. They’re quite fascinating, you know. They live entirely on the nutrients the tree limbs and bark provide. More importantly, they can dry out for weeks or even years, and yet they’ll revive with a very small amount of water after all that time. Hence the name Resurrection Fern.”

“That friend and I became obsessed with studying the plant. We conducted research, and read everything we could find on the topic. Eventually, we discovered a 21st century terran song with the same name.”

He breaks off, a fond yet sad smile on his face.

Garak, sensing this piece of information was not expressly intended to be shared, takes a risk.

“Would you play it for me, Doctor?”

He holds out a padd, heart thundering in the brief time it takes Julian to accept and enter the request.

As the song begins, Julian’s eyes slip closed and he sways slightly. Garak gazes openly, struck by the quiet vulnerability displayed on Julian’s face. As for the music, he recognizes the ethereal quality of the vocalist’s voice, but struggles to understand the prominent use of human metaphor in the lyrics.

When it ends, Julian’s eyes open, and Garak notices them sparkling in the light of the fire. He has a fleeting thought of how one might ask what causes this phenomenon. In a safe, academic tone, of course.

~~~

“I confess, Doctor, that I do not fully grasp the meaning of the song.”

“Ah, Garak, there is the beauty in it. One cannot know the exact meaning if the artist decides not to reveal it.” Seeing Garak’s slightly miffed look, he adds, “But one can certainly speculate.”

“In the case of this song, some say that it’s an elegy to the southern way of life. A simple, hard way to live in which solutions are borne of necessity, and no apologies are made. Others say it’s detailing the demise of a relationship, that the references to ghosts, baby’s breath and old houses are meant to signify echoes of what once was when the couple were in love.”

Garak considers this. Julian seems to be struggling with whether to continue, but in the end, he does.

“Those were not interpretations that my friend and I agreed with, however.”

“No?”

“No… we were rather convinced that the song refers to a queer relationship between two boys.”

Garak’s heart stops for a moment. Was Julian saying…?

“And what would lead you to that conclusion?” Garak asks softly.

“Well, there are references to stubborn boys, wondering why they give the world what it expects. They’re hiding their natures in pursuit of conformity, but over the course of the song, they are able to confide in each other. Letting their guards down and realizing they’re more pearls than a tree and its fern, meaning a beautiful pair rather than a parasitic, toxic thing.”

Julian’s voice, which had steadily grown more fervent in the explanation, trails off, and he struggles to control his breathing. Garak hardly dares to breathe, but knows he’ll never have this chance again.

He asks quietly, “What was his name?”

A moment of confusion. “Whose?”

“… Your friend.” Surprise, understanding, fear, and resignation cross Julian’s face in an instant.

“It was – it was Afnan.”

~~~

“We were… friends.” Seeing the look on Garak’s face, he amended, “More than friends. I had been augmented since the age of 7 and that meant being extremely private and often alienated by my fellow students. Afnan and I bonded in science class, and for the first time in my life I understood what it meant to care for someone. As I said, we found the resurrection fern on a field trip, and… that was also the first time we kissed.

I was so scared. I was deeply ashamed that I felt this way for another boy, and I wondered why the enhancements hadn’t… taken care of this part of me. Even more so, I was terrified that if my parents found out, they would order more treatments. And God, help me, even though I hated what the world would think, I loved how it felt to love.” There are tears in his eyes. “The first time we were intimate, he played this song. And I felt safe, and right, and… real.”

Garak is stunned, silent. The revelation that Julian not only can feel attraction to males but has apparently struggled with the fact for the better part of his years draws a deep empathy from the tailor’s gut. He chokes a little on the next question.

“What… what happened to him?”

The wry smile again. “What happened to us both: Starfleet. I couldn’t risk being outed as anything because of the attention and scrutiny it would garner. And as much as I loved him, I couldn’t trust him enough to tell the truth about my augmentation. He never knew why he wasn’t enough, why he wasn’t worth the risk.”

“I used to listen to that song all the time, thinking if the resurrection fern could come alive again against all the odds, perhaps my ability to love could too. But over time, I became so bitter and unhappy, and the song just reminded me of what I’d lost. I hadn’t thought of the resurrection fern or any of this for years before today.”

As this sinks in, Garak turns from sorrow and quiet to anger. It must be obvious on his face and in his clenching fists, because Julian says, a little incredulously, “You’re more surprised by this than the genetic augmentation?

Garak sniffs, “Surprised that you would keep this from me.”

Julian scoffs and counters, “Come off it, Garak. My situation necessitates appearing as ‘normal’ as possible, and surely you realize displaying the right kind of attraction is a large part of that.”

Garak softens a little, but still seems upset. Julian again falters for a second, but appears to gather his resolve and continues.

“But… I always figured that, on some level, you knew. There were so many slip ups, in those quiet hours together, the intimate meals, meaningful glances. And – you never drew attention to them, obvious as they were. So I had to assume you weren’t interested.”

“You only ever expressed romantic interest in females, and a great many at that!” Garak protests.

Julian holds his gaze and says quietly, “Ah, but what was it you always said? ‘It’s all true, especially the lies.’ And I have never lied more often and more desperately than to you, and really, doesn’t that explain a lot?”

~~~

The fire, which had sunk low, now flared with renewed vigour. 

“But I haven’t asked how you feel about all this, Garak.”

“My dear doctor, once again, I have to admit a grudging respect for your ability to obscure.” It’s a pitiful attempt to turn back to the clock, to divert attention from the emotional crisis he is most definitely not having at the moment.

“Garak. As you said, we’re quite alone. Why not fill the time with this?”

At his words, Garak glances around, a remnant of Obsidian Order training. His calm mask slips just a little, and he rises.

Julian’s expression falls slightly. Then Garak says, “Dance with me, Julian.”

Julian smiles shyly, rises, and reaches over to restart the song. Over the strains of harmonium and guitar, they hold each other gently, reverently.

The fire smolders, embers glowing.

Garak whispers, “I didn’t imagine it would be like this.”

“But you did imagine it?”

With a rueful smile, Garak says, “I know how to do little else where you’re concerned, doctor. How do you think I could stay sane with you within reach but so utterly beyond my grasp?”

He reaches up to cup his face tenderly, and after a searching look, Julian closes the distance to kiss him. It’s tentative and slow but full of meaning and intent, of feelings long buried and impulses chastised.

“You have me.”

~~

Julian slides his hands inside Garak’s tunic, unfastening it and slipping it from his shoulders. He removes his own singlet and presses their chests together, warm and cool, brown and grey, both sighing and shuddering slightly. Garak runs his hands over Julian’s smooth back, reveling in the freedom to touch at last. Sighing, Julian trails kisses down Garak’s jaw and neck ridges, eliciting breathy moans and soft growls.

Breathing hard, they part. Julian gazes into Garak’s eyes and asks, “Are you okay with this? Because there’s no rush and I don’t want to pressure you – “

Garak cuts him off and says, “Julian. I have been ready for this since the day we met."

“Of course,” he kisses him lightly, “My motivations were rather different then.”

“Oh?” Julian smirks. “You mean to say you just wanted a beautiful body in your bed?”

Garak looks at him seriously and adds, “I was foolish. And by the time I knew it, I also thought I had lost my chance forever. So I buried the feelings as deep as I could.”

A lock of his black hair is brushed back and Julian whispers, “Well, it appears a resurrection is at hand.”

~~~

He reaches for Garak’s trousers, unfastening them and letting them drop. He then loosens and removes his own, and they gaze at one another in the fading light of the fire. There are no illusions, just thrumming, living bodies calling out to one another, to connection, to completion.

Garak moves toward Julian, pressing him backward against the bark of the largest tree in their clearing. Julian gasps at the feeling of the soft moss and ferns against his back, and again at Garak’s erection pressed against his for the first time.

“Julian,” Garak breathes.

“Elim,” Julian pleads. “I need you. Please.”

Garak draws some of the moisture coating his hardness and gently presses a finger into Julian.

“Oh, God!” he gasps.

“Do not deify me just yet, Doctor.”

Julian laughs and chokes as the finger begins to move, and is quickly joined by a second and a third. Despite an exceptional memory, Garak cannot recall a more beautiful sight, and feels momentarily silly for waxing so poetic. But, he tells himself, there are moments in life that defy one’s cynicism and pragmatism and demand simple awe and appreciation. And he has never felt that more truly than in these moments before joining with Julian.

~~~

Garak hears Julian’s whines become urgent, the sound throbbing in his erection, and he knows the time has come. He removes his fingers, grabs hold of Julian’s thighs and lifts him, crossing those long legs around his waist. Kissing Julian’s flushed forehead, he lines himself up, gently pressing in. He gives Julian a minute or two to adjust to the intrusion.

Julian’s face is a study in the art of debauchery, captured in the media of pleasure and pain. He manages to lock eyes with Garak long enough to urgently whisper, “There is one lie I have not yet told you, Elim. It’s the truest of them all. Do you know it?”

Garak gasps, overcome at the sensation of being one with Julian and cannot spare the mental energy to parse that comment. He thrusts, feeling Julian bear down and follow him at the end of each one, craving more friction, more, more. Their bodies move in perfect synchronicity, taking and giving, speaking a language of pleasure that is primitive but undeniably eloquent. The silence of the night is punctuated with growing moans, the undeniable physical evidence of their pleasure expelled, until the climax begins to fade and they return to the world once more.

~~~

Garak gently removes Julian’s legs from his waist and breathes, taking in the sight of a sated, warm, glowing human with leaves in his hair and stars in his eyes.

He recalls the question Julian posed only moments or perhaps a lifetime ago.

Taking the doctor’s hand, Garak leads him back to the soft blankets by the fire. He is overcome with a sense of warmth and gratitude, to this strange planet and unfortunately fortunate circumstances. Though he has seen Julian many times before, tonight he feels that word is somehow inadequate. He knows him now, in an unparalleled fashion, and a thrill runs through him at the realization that Julian knows him just as completely.

Perhaps he understands more about pairs of pearls and wasted bravery and shame than he thought.

Lying back, draped around Julian and gazing at the dying embers, Garak whispers the answer in Julian’s ear - and to his heart.

“I love you.”


End file.
